


red knuckled kings

by beigetea



Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Basically, Book 1: King of Scars, Bulimia, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, F/M, Heavy Angst, Post-Book 1: King of Scars, and its caused a lot of bs, idk where this is going, nikolais been struggling with his identity since he was a kid, torturing nikolai is my coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-11-29 05:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20957741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beigetea/pseuds/beigetea
Summary: in which nikolai is bulimic





	1. names

**Author's Note:**

> uh hi. i thought this whole thing through in math class today, it's shitty, i know. torturing nikolai is my coping mechanism but uh im not sure if i should continue. that'll probably be up to you guyss // also please note i am still figuring out formatting on ao3 so all the names r supposed to be italicized but im dumb. yall get the point

_Nikolai Lantsov. King of Scars. Sturmhond. Korol Rezni. Nikolai Nothing._

_ _ All names that belonged to him. He wore each like a different coat, with the same fit, but different cloths. Different colors. Different _scars,_ from wear and tear. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

_ _ _ _ Names give you a sense of identity. Who you are. What differentiates you from the billions of mouth-breathing creatures, roaming the earth and draining it of life. But if you asked who Nikolai was, it would lead you to one of those names._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ King of Ravka. They’d say. Maybe they’d talk about _handsome, confident, brave_ Nikolai. The savior king who had swooped down and saved Ravka. Others would mention _ugly, cowardly, weak Nikolai._ The bastard boy with no claim to any throne. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Both held true. Both were Nikolai. People just adopted whichever king shielded them, protected them, proved whatever it was that held their ego, and fed their high horse._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ But if you asked Nikolai, he’d falter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ He wouldn’t be prepared to answer. He’d stumble, wince, and stutter, and eventually conclude with a painful I don’t know._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Of course, he never failed to call himself handsome, stunning, intrepid when he had the chance, but that wasn’t him. That wasn’t Nikolai._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ This was the thought that plagued his mind as he leaned over the toilet, hands gripping the porcelain, waiting for the dizziness to leave him. It wasn’t pleasant. He might’ve failed to see his sick, but the putrid smell remained. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ The worst was over, though, he was done shoving his fingers down his throat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Bulimia was something that plagued him since childhood. It festered within him when he was mocked by his brother, dubbed _Nikolai Nothing_. It became a way to cope when he was scorned by his mother. He was too fat. It wasn’t princely. It became a futile attempt to seize the attention he was deprived of, that was torn from him and given to Vasily like a Saint’s day present all wrapped up in a bow, while Nikolai just got more names._ _ _ _ _ _ __

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Nikolai Nothing. Bastard child. Lantsov imposter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Those names, those rumors chewed him up as if he were chicken on a bone. Ripped off piece by piece until all that was left was bone. Perfect, firm, delicate bones that stretched underneath his skin, threatening to escape its cage of flesh. Nikolai wish they did, that he could rip through his fleshy prison, his cell of fat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Maybe then everyone could see who he really was. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Maybe then he could have a real name._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	2. she saw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zoya's worried

Zoya’s worried about Nikolai.

She has been, since she’d been assigned general. Since she had to wake Nikolai from his nightmares, and pull him out of his panic attacks in the mornings. Since she’d heard retching coming from his room after dinner.

Nikolai was a master of deception, if anything. He had a facade. He had a name. And Zoya had the ability to see right through it. 

Well, not through it, Zoya had to admit. It was only that she saw the cracks in the china while the others just loaded it with food.

She saw them in the long hours in which they sat at the table, reading peace treaties and signing off loans they couldn’t afford to give. She saw them when Nikolai reached across the table for fresh parchment, how his shirtsleeve slipped up the smallest bit and she caught the cuts that littered his forearm, lining them almost elegantly.

She saw them at war council meetings, when they had established a new plan, a new strategy of the too-clever-fox to set into action. She saw them when he stood up to leave, and he faltered, gripping the edges of the table in search of stability to keep him upright. 

She saw them during their nights, when she went to chain him to his bed, to keep the demon resting in him- one of them- at bay. She saw them in his eyes, when the panic clouded them, when the fear of being confined he had learned to keep hidden surfaced gently. These are the nights she decides to stay by his side, telling him tales of a childhood that wasn’t hers, until exhaustion pulled him into unconsciousness. 

Because she can’t leave him in the dark with his demons. 

She knows Nikolai’s afraid of the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what did i just write


	3. war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zoya (kinda) reaches out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i wasnt planning on continuing but i had a lot of ideas and a nice review so,, im switching over to a more story-telling style of writing now. you'll see what I mean

Zoya knows Nikolai.

She knows happy Nikolai, the flirty, ambitious fox with fire in his eyes she greets every morning.  
She knows sad Nikolai, the Nikolai she’d found on the bathroom floor after Vasily’s death, with tears streaming down his face. She’d held him close to her, and when he made that noise - that soft, broken sob that split her heart in two, she told herself that this was the worst Nikolai.

Doubt clouded her heart as she looked at him now.

A war council meeting, one of many map-on-the-table-everybody’s-scheming war council meetings. But she saw Nikolai come in, hardly steady on his feet. They’d all come here straight after dinner, but he’d had something to do. And he’d done it. His face was oddly flushed, and his eyes a bit red. 

That was the problem. His eyes. She scanned it for any sense of his usual vehemence that was present when he was plotting, when his mind was at work. But all she got from it was _a bit red_, and that worried her enough to distract her from why.

He slumped into a seat between her and Tamar. She was standing, arms spread and leaning against the table, eyeing the map. Her and David were the only ones standing, David in the corner. 

“All we need is to position Grisha soldiers at the Fjerdan border.”

Tolya shook his head, “They could just as easily come from the shoreline,” he pointed at the map. “What’s screwing us is that we don’t know.”

Genya huffed, her head in her hands, and Tamar groaned. She eyed Nikolai, he was squinting at the map, his mouth twitching. 

“Two Grisha, no more than that, to the Fjerdan docks. No one’s to know they’re Grisha,” he announced, looking slightly sick. “A quick trip back and forth, they can play tourist, go sightseeing for Saint’s sake. Two more to the Shu borders. Let us know what they see, report back instantly.”

“And if anything goes wrong?” Zoya questions, “Two can’t be enough, they’ll never report back.”

“Any more will raise suspicion.” He meets her gaze. “A war’s coming, Nazyalensky.” She shakes her head. He turns to look at Tamar.

“W-”

“Whoever’s fitting, Tamar. I trust you. Have them prepared in a week’s time, I’m afraid this can’t wait.”

She nodded and briskly left, tailed by Tolya. Genya eyed David, and they left together. Nikolai looked down, playing with his shirtsleeve. He looked like he was going to be sick.

“Are you alright?” Zoya blinked, not realizing she got lost in the pull of his hazel eyes.

“I’m tired.”

Nikolai sighed, and closed his eyes. “Me too, Nazyalensky.”

Zoya reached out and held his fragile hands. She squeezed it gently and looked up at Nikolai. “Are you alright?”

Nikolai opened his eyes. He paused. “I don’t know, Nazyalensky.”

Zoya sighed. 

She didn’t know either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not a lot of action this chapter but i promise you'll get it next chapter hehe


	4. broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nikolai breaks

It wasn’t a good day.

Nikolai was sure he hadn’t really consumed anything substantial in about seven days. The circles under his eyes have started to turn a sickly shade of purple, and his hair has been falling out in clumps. He felt weak too, terribly. The lack of food and consistent purging is enervating him.

He knows he has to eat. But he can’t. He’s falling again, he’d fallen too far, and he’s much too weak to pull himself up. He’s sick again, almost as sick as when he was a child, and he doesn’t think he’s strong enough to fight it this time.

He’s tired. And with that, he sits at the table, staring at his herring. One arm is wrapped around his waist, all he can feel is fat and that drains his appetite away quickly and instills a bit of nausea, too. The other is tracing his collarbone. It grounds him.

Zoya is sitting across from him, reading a particularly long- and from the looks of it, angry letter directed at the king himself. He tears his eyes from the herring. “Why aren’t you eating?”

Zoya snorts, not looking up. “I eat alone. We don’t all dine like kings, Nikolai.”

Nikolai would be hurt. He hated when he was naive, when he couldn’t catch himself from making a comment like that. He would be hurt. But he wasn’t. He was too tired. He stared back at the herring.

“If you’re not eating that, I will.” Nikolai looked up. He spaced out staring at the herring. He’d been doing that an awful lot lately. 

He took in Zoya’s expression carefully, drinking it like fine wine while any other man would snort it like pure cocaine. Her eyes were worried, and her brows were furrowed in concern. Nikolai knew she wouldn’t eat it. But he couldn’t either. He was much too tired to purge, and he couldn’t deal with the chorus in his head screaming at him now.

“Go ahead, I’m not hungry.”

“Eat it, Nikolai.”

“I’m not hungry, Zoya.” Nikolai said forcefully. He was gentle with Zoya, but he was tired. He was tired, and so, so hungry.

“You’re so thin, you look sick. You have for a long time, and I’m worried, alright? Eat it!” Zoya was exasperated. She was desperate. Nikolai looked at her. He wasn’t thin.He was freezing. He pulled his sleeves lower. 

“I’m okay, Nazyalenky.”

“Saints, Nikolai!” She raised her voice, and Nikolai flinched. “You aren’t a child. Eat your food before I chain you down and feed you myself.” There was care in her voice, but also poison. Nikolai knew Zoya got like this when she was desperate, when she was angry. 

Nikolai was tired.

He took a bite of the herring.

He knew it was a mistake. He couldn’t stop. He was so hungry. He kept eating and eating and eating until his plate was clean and the chorus in his head was screaming at the very top of their lungs and he felt the food, the _fat_ settle in and flow through his veins and clog up his arteries. Nikolai felt sick. He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to face Zoya. He didn’t want her to see him.

So he got up, and ran to the bathroom. The world was spinning and he heard something behind him but his feet knew where to go, they remembered, so he commanded and they took him and then he was leaning over a toilet with his fingers down his throat. Everything was coming back up. Everything he did would be undone. He’d be okay again.

But he felt two hands grip him by the shoulders and yank him away from the toilet. 

Zoya.

She pulled him towards the wall of cold tiles on the other side of the bathroom, and held him. He didn’t look at her face. He kept his gaze straight ahead.

He felt the fat continue to climb through his body like a disease, infecting it and bloating it and puffing it up. He wanted to fight Zoya, to go back and purge it from him.

But he was tired.

He leaned back into Zoya, letting his head rest on her shoulder, and closed his eyes. He felt safe in the arms of the storm witch. He felt like he could forget.

\---

Zoya’s heart shattered when she saw Nikolai making himself sick. The king of Ravka, he was strong, fearless. But all it took was food to make him break.

She changed her mind. Broken Nikolai was the worst Nikolai. 

Now she held him in her arms, feeling his breath warm on his neck. She felt his heartbeat- it was weak, and slow, but it was enough. It assured her he was alive. It was assurance she needed.

They stayed there, wrapped together on the cold tiles, heartbeats intertwined, until Zoya slowly drifted into sleep.


	5. monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nikolai makes a plan

Zoya was being shaken awake, and she wasn’t happy about it.

She opened her eyes, and the world came into focus. Nikolai was leaning over her, and memories flooded back.

Dinner, Nikolai’s refusal, eating like he’s never had a bite of food in his life, him making himself sick. 

She suddenly felt nauseous.

“What were you thinking, Nazyalensky?” Zoya sat up straight, and met Nikolai’s eyes. He shifted his, though, he couldn’t look her in the eye after what happened.

“What?” She was tired. It was dark, probably before sunrise. And she was sore. Sleeping on cold tiles isn’t comfortable, even more so since she wasn’t huddled against Nikolai anymore.

“We fell asleep! Here! I could’ve..” Nikolai trailed off, but Zoya understood. The monster. He wasn’t chained. They were on the bathroom floor, for Saint’s sake. How could she be so stupid?

“Saints, Nikolai. Sorry,” she shook her head. “You didn’t change though, did you? Why?”

Nikolai shrugged helplessly. “I’m afraid I know as much as you. I probably got lucky, that’s all.” Zoya nodded, and stood, brushing off her kefta. 

“Come, I can chain you and wake you after sunrise.” Zoya had no idea what time it was, but she was exhausted. Nikolai shook his head.

“It’s almost sunrise. I have to check on some prototypes. Get some sleep, Nazyalensky.” He gave her a brief smile and left. Zoya was too tired to process any of this, so she didn’t hesitate to follow and claim a few more hours of sleep.

\---

Nikolai lied.

He didn’t get lucky. Probably. The monster didn’t come for him, and he had an idea as to why.

When The Darkling first cursed him, his appetite increased tenfold. He slept a lot more and ate a lot more. It didn’t take him long to figure out why. The monster worked as a parasite. It needed energy and food to survive and successfully overtake him at night, energy which it stole from him. When Nikolai stopped eating again, he felt the monster get weaker. He got weaker, but it did too. He tried to starve it to death, but it wouldn’t die without killing Nikolai as well. So he settled for weakening it.

It didn’t occur to him that he could deprive it from the energy it needed to overtake him. It didn’t mean he could sleep without chains, he could never risk that. It meant that maybe Ravka could be safe, maybe he had a way to suppress the thing while it was inside of him. 

It had a cost. It meant fueling Nikolai’s addiction. His starving and purging. Further arming the demons on the battlefield on his mind.   
And now Zoya knew. She’d seen him purge. She’d seen him eat too. He felt a twinge of shame at that. She’d seen his animalistic hunger overtake him. She’d seen him in a low he couldn’t even bear to look at himself in.

He’d have to hide it from her.

Nikolai stood up. He’d been sitting by the water, watching the sunrise, trying to clear his head. Whenever he had a problem, he’d focus on clearing his head. Coming up with a solution, a course of action to be taken immediately. As he walked back through the doors of the palace, he had one.

Don’t eat. For the good of Ravka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! thanks for the reviews lol. this chapter was kinda rushed sorry but my mental health lately has gone underground and i dont rlly have the motivation to write. its therapeutic tho so im alright with it. also ive started reading a curse so dark and lonely and it is SOOOOOOOOOOOooo good alright ill shut up now hope u enjoyed


	6. silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zoya pays attention to things

It had been almost a week since the incident.

To Zoya’s dismay, Nikolai didn’t seem to be getting any better. She knew that being seen by her wasn’t going to undo every disorder in his mind, but a part of her, the part that admitted to seeing Nikolai as more than just her king, _the part that cared about him,_ hoped he would.

But he didn’t.

They drifted a bit. Zoya was Nikolai’s general, so they had to spend a lot of time together, and that didn’t change, but Zoya has never felt so distant from him. They would sit at the table, Nikolai’s lunch untouched to the side, reading through a seemingly endless pile of expostulations. There was no eye-contact, and none of the usual chatter. Nikolai didn’t pause to laugh with her at one much too passionate citizen complaining about restrictions on who-knows-what. It was as if there was a brick wall between them, and Zoya was one more moment of silence away from ripping it down herself.

She got distracted often. She always did, even before Nikolai secluded himself, but it was easier now as Nikolai just wasn’t _there_ to snap her out of it. Her eyes wandered to his, naturally, but were stopped short by the purple pooling beneath them. Saints, Nikolai was tired.

She did look at his eyes though, maybe trying to find comfort for herself in the warm sea of hazel, but she didn’t get it. His gaze was weak. It was tired. She saw it even in the way his pupils moved to read the paper. It looked as if it was draining him, and she’d give anything to get him to stop. To sleep. _To eat_.

She knows it isn’t easy for him. She doesn’t know why, but she knows that it takes so much, _too much_ self-hatred to deny oneself a necessity as basic and human as food. Self hatred that Nikolai shouldn’t have. That Nikolai doesn’t _need_.

Maybe it’s a coping mechanism. Maybe it’s an addiction. Maybe it’s punishment. 

Zoya’s not used to not knowing, and it’s killing her.

She continues staring.

After admiring his lashes and tightly furrowed brows, she gets to his hair. His beautiful hair that sits in blonde waves atop his head. It’s lost its shine, and it’s incredibly limp. It’s thinning, noticeably, (well, noticeably if you’re used to staring at Nikolai for unnaturally long periods of time), and Zoya found herself resisting the urge to grab a fistful and pull, no, pick it up from his scalp. 

And then she looks at his lips. She’d skipped so many things, his cheekbones, his nose, all beautiful but could never beat the delicacy of his soft, pink lips. They’d usually rest in an easy smile, or sit in a tight line when he was stressed. Never relaxed, because Nikolai never was. Every aspect of him was a clever plan made much too long in advance, and his lips were no exception. But today they lay slightly parted, relaxed, tired, and it just wasn’t Nikolai.

She wanted to snap right there and shove food down his throat until he choked and died and she wouldn’t have to worry about his goddamn stupid ass anymore, but she let her eyes continue wandering.

His collarbones were beautiful. She never really looked at them, usually concealed by his shirt, but the top few buttons of his flowy shirt were left undone today, revealing the bones underneath. Nikolai’s hand reached up to touch them. The sudden movement startled Zoya, embarrassing her, because she’d been staring for so long, but Nikolai’s eyes hadn’t moved from the paper. Whatever was on it was distressing him, and his wiry fingers were tracing his collarbone repeatedly. He seemed to do that when he was stressed.

Zoya had enough. “What’s that about?” Nikolai was startled, looking up. 

“The Grisha haven’t reported back.”

“I told you to send more.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” Nikolai sighed. He met her eyes, for the first time. His eyes were pleading, begging. He looked like a puppy that’s been kicked one too many times.

He thought the missing Grisha was his fault. He was asking for forgiveness.

Zoya knew that she could give him barrels of the stuff, and he wouldn’t be able to take it.

She shook her head. “You’re right. You didn’t.”

“I don’t- I don’t feel well, Nazyalensky.” He flashed her a tight smile, and got up. 

“Nikolai.” she called, as he was walking through the door.

“Yes?” He looked at her. His eyes were full of defeat and shame and guilt, defeat and shame and guilt that never belonged in the eyes of a king.

“It’s going to be okay.”

He left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter took me an unreasonable amount of time to write and i have a massive headache but damn was it worth it,, i have a pretty good idea for the next chapter too so woo for productivity


	7. delicate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nikolai faints

After Nikolai returned to Os Alta, after the monster infected him, he spent a lot of time in front of the mirror. He would inspect every inch of his naked body, looking for the monster, for the darkness’ presence somewhere other than his hands. He never found it.

But he still looked, nonetheless. He began to despise every inch of his body, because it wasn’t _his_ anymore. There was something inside of him itching to get out, a darkness, a monster. He felt it. He hated it. He wanted to rip through his skin and be free of it. He wanted to tear his body to shreds.

The longer he looked, the worse it got. His dysmorphia that festered within him as a child returned fiercely, and ate at his mind. It destroyed all the progress he made when Alina was around- for Alina, because she would never want a broken king. Progress he fought with all of his strength to maintain after Vasily’s death. 

Every single moment of the day he was hyper-aware of his body. How his stomach folded when he sat down, how his thighs moved when he walked. Voices in his head were screaming at him every single second of the goddamn day, and it was suffocating. He tried drinking, to quiet the voices, but he had duties. He had to be sober, no matter how badly he wanted to drown himself in kvas.

So he starved, again. He relapsed horribly, spending days at a time without food. He had to eat sometimes, to keep up appearances. These times gave him suffocating anxiety but he faced it with a calm face, the same way he faced the toilet minutes later, washing the bile off his fingers.

He started cutting again, too. He started when he was thirteen, because the pain was a sharp escape from the dull blur of his life. Vasily found him unconscious on the bathroom floor when Nikolai was fourteen. When he cut too deep, too many times. 

It wasn’t a mistake. Nikolai was overwhelmed, he was scared. He wanted to quiet the voices, once and for all.

It was also the day he’d lost his virginity.

Vasily brought him to a healer, and bribed her to keep quiet. Vasily held him for a bit, after that. Nikolai could sense Vasily’s fear, though he was trying to keep calm for Nikolai’s sake. Vasily took his blades, and although it would be fairly easy to nick a few hunting knives off his father’s shelves, he didn’t want Vasily to be afraid anymore. He tried to fight his eating disorder too, but that ended in tears. Nikolai gave up. He couldn’t, he was too weak.

And now, as Nikolai looked in the mirror, he felt weak again. This was something he couldn’t fight right now, probably never again. It would kill the king of Ravka.

The man who’d been a meatsuit for a monster, killed by his fear of food.

Wonderful.

He finished cuffing his sleeves and headed to the war room for another war council meeting. As he opened the door and took note of all of his friends, his people, he worried. What would they do if Nikolai died?

Probably rejoice.

“Hey, I had a servant bring your breakfast down here.” Zoya said, gesturing to a plate on the table. _Oh right_, there wasn’t any breakfast in his room this morning. Hard to take note of when you never eat it.

Nikolai gave Zoya a pleading look and sat down. He was extremely lightheaded. He needed to eat, or he’d end up collapsing, but just the sight of the food made him more nauseous than he already was. He ignored it, and listened in on the conversation. 

Well, he tried to. He spaced in and out, and he had a headache. He kept staring at the food in front of him.

_Saints, how bad he wanted to take a bite._

_No, it would turn into grisly yellow sludge clogging up his arteries and veins._

_But one bite wouldn’t hurt him. He needed food, or he’d die._

_He was so hungry._

_He would stay in control. He wouldn’t give into his animal hunger. He’s strong._

_He’s so weak._

“Nikolai, hey.” He looked up, and met Zoya’s eyes next to him. Her hand was on his arm. 

His arm. She probably felt how disgusting he was, how close he was to giving into his hunger. Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.

“Is he alright?” He heard Tolya’s voice, but it felt far away.

The talking became a jumbled mess behind the high-pitched ringing.

Unpleasant thoughts clouded his mind.

He stood up quickly, to leave. He felt everyone’s eyes on him. But his legs buckled.

_He was weak._

He was seeing stars, and then the ground ran up to meet him.

\---

Zoya could see that Nikolai was sick.

She could see how his clothes hung so loosely off of him, and how his hair went limp, and how he looked ready to faint any minute.

During the meeting, Genya and Tamar were in a heated discussion about what to do about the missing Grisha, with David and Tolya adding something every once in a while. Zoya paid some attention, but she was busy watching Nikolai. He never said a word the whole time. He was sitting there, staring at his food.

At one point, he started to panic. His eyes filled with fear, and his breathing became rapid. Zoya put a hand on his arm.

“Nikolai, hey.” 

He looked up and met her eyes. His face was twisted into an expression of animalistic fear. 

She looked around and realized everyone’s eyes were on Nikolai. 

“Is he alright?” Tolya asked with concern. 

“I think he’s having a panic attack,” Tamar added. “Nikolai, it’s Tamar. You’re here. With us.” Nikolai wasn’t calming down.

“Shit. He didn’t eat anything.” David murmured. Genya stood up, but before she could move, Nikolai stood up abruptly. He started to back away, but his eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed onto the floor. Zoya was at his side in a second, grabbing his wrist, trying not to flinch at how easily she could fit her fingers around it, and checked for a pulse.

“Tolya, speed up his heartbeat. It’s slowing.” Zoya barked. Tolya was already unbuttoning the top of his shirt. He was no healer, but he could do this just fine. 

Genya sat down next to him with the food. “Tolya can’t keep his heartbeat up forever. He’ll have to eat.” She crushed up some food, and put it up to his lips, and in his mouth. 

It went down.

Nikolai started stirring. He opened his eyes slowly, wincing at the light. When he noticed everyone crowded around him, his breath hitched, and he began to get up.

“Get back,” David commanded, “he’ll get overwhelmed.” Nikolai was lifting himself up, when another wave of dizziness hit him. He settled for leaning against Zoya. She took his weight thankfully.

“Hey,” she said softly, “it’s alright.” Nikolai was tense. It probably terrified him, that so many people saw him faint. He winced. “Nikolai, you have to eat something.”

His neck was resting on the crook of her collarbone. She could feel his soft breath on her neck.

“Uh, we should go.” David announced awkwardly, and left the room. With a few worried glances cast Nikolai’s way, they all left. Once again, it was just Zoya and Nikolai.

“I think I’m better now.” Nikolai stood up, careful to use the wall for support.

“You have to eat.” Zoya repeated. There was a defeated look in Nikolai’s eyes.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got really excited for this chapter and made it like six pages long, but then I realized that would be stupid considering the length of my other chapters, so I just split it somewhere in the middle. There's action here, but it's nothing compared to next chapter, so just wait lmao


	8. strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nikolai eats and stuff gets out

They sat down at the table, one opposite the other, Nikolai’s plate in front of him. Nikolai was shivering, despite the warm weather. He was just so _cold._ “Nikolai.” Zoya said. Nikolai winced. He knew sitting in silence wouldn’t do anyone any good.

Nikolai closed his eyes. “I’m scared.” He was almost startled to hear his voice. He sounded so small. _He sounded the way he felt._

“Why?” He knew she would ask. It’s a question he asked himself every day.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“You’re the king of Ravka, for saints sake. You have every choice. Just eat.” Her voice was gentle, but the words weren’t. Nikolai had to hold back laughter. _Just eat._ Saints, what he’d give to be able to _just eat._

Nikolai raised his voice. “No Zoya, you don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like. You haven’t grown up being told that you were never enough. That you were a bastard. An imposter. A punching bag for the _saintsforsaken_ royal family.” The words tasted bitter coming out of his mouth. Zoya didn’t deserve this. She didn’t need his burdens. But he’d kept it all in since he was a child. He couldn’t stop. “You weren’t called endless names when you were five. You didn’t have to use makeup to conceal bruises when you were nine. _Your father didn’t use you as a sex slave when you were fourteen_.” Nikolai choked on those last words. A tear rolled down his cheek. He shouldn’t have said that. But he didn’t wait for Zoya’s pity. “You don’t know what it’s like to look in the mirror and despise what you see, despise your body because it isn’t _yours._ To take a blade and cut it up because you can’t stand living with the pain. To walk around aware of every single inch of fat on your body every single moment of _every single fucking day._ To stick your fingers down your throat because you made a mistake, you lost control. Because you aren’t enough. And you never will be, and saints, you’re getting reminded all the time. Because you’ve been doing this since you were eight and you would give anything to stop but you can’t, you just can’t because you’re addicted to all of the pain and deep down, deep down _you know you deserve it._Nikolai took a shaky breath. He met Zoya’s eyes. She looked like she’d been slapped. “I’m sorry, I- I shouldn’t have s-”

“No,” Zoya cut him off. “You- why didn’t you ever say anything?”

He didn’t want to be seen as unfit to rule. He didn’t want anyone’s pity. He didn’t want to be more of a burden than he already was. He didn’t want to stop. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Nikolai. Did your father really do that to you?” He looked away. “Nikolai, look at me. Did your father- rape you?”

“Yes.” He looked at Zoya, pleading and begging. To forgive him. To hold him. To let him go back to his room and starve himself to death. This was pain he couldn’t carry himself anymore.

But Zoya didn’t judge him. She didn’t ignore him. She didn’t pity him.

“Please eat.”

Nikolai sighed. “Nazyalensky-”

“No. Listen Nikolai. You’re hurt. You’re scared. You’re traumatized. It’s okay. But I know you wouldn’t tell me all of this if you didn’t want to get better. The first step to that is eating.” She gestured to the food. Nikolai shuddered. “I’ll stay with you in your bedroom for a while after, if you’re scared you’ll make yourself throw up.”

“I can’t just stop.”

“I know. Listen, this will probably be hard. You said it’s like an addiction, right? Well, we’ll treat it like one. You’ll still purge sometimes. It’s inevitable. I can’t stop you. I won’t be with you one hundred percent of the time to force food down your throat. But I know you want to change. It will take time, of course, but I trust you.”

“I don’t think you should.”

“It’s okay. We’ll work it out later, just try to eat.” Nikolai looked down at his food. It had gone cold long ago.

_I’ve got this._

__

__

_ I’m not weak._

He took a bite.

He waited. He was so tempted to eat all of it. To just keep eating and eating and eating and trying to fill the hole inside of him, but he knows that no matter how much he eats, he’ll still be an empty boy with a heavy heart.

So he took another bite. And another. Slowly, he started to finish his plate.

He didn’t notice he was crying until he tasted the salty tears.

There was one bite left.

He looked up at Zoya. She was giving him a reassuring look.

“I can’t.”

“That’s okay.” She stood up. Nikolai was confused. He thought she’d be angry, slap him, hurt him.

_No, this is Zoya. Zoya wouldn’t do that._

He stood up and took her hand. She let go, which sent a pang of anxiety through him, but then she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and they started to walk towards his room.

He felt the food crawl up his arteries and expand in his veins, bloating his fragile body and expanding him as if he were bread in an oven. He felt like he was suffocating again. He was still crying, but these halls were empty. 

They got to Nikolai’s room. He felt sick, and he probably looked it. After vomiting his meals for so long, his body was having trouble keeping anything down. But Nikolai was determined this time, for Zoya.

“It’ll be okay.” Zoya held his hand in hers.

And for once, he believed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im actually really proud of this chapter? uh idk i dont usually like my writing (im literally 13 i have a long way to go) but its really personal and during the part where nikolai yells at zoya i got kind of lost and those words came from me and my experience, i just never got to say that out loud so it felt really real to and i enjoyed it!! also im relapsing so expect more content faster lmao


	9. light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> recovery, and the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone reading this are u ok

“Come on, eat.” Zoya said impatiently. Nikolai sighed. He was pushing his food around on his plate. He really didn’t want to.

It’s been a few days since his recovery began. Nikolai thought his disorder was hell, but recovery was a million times worse. He’d eat most of the time, trying to ignore his thoughts. The voices in his head wouldn’t _shut up_. They kept screaming and shouting about how he was an ugly pig and all that jazz, and urging his thoughts to the rolls of fat on his stomach that he knew weren’t there, but he felt and saw and suffocated on them so it was easy to believe they were. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay. He wasn’t sure he could do this for another day, much less forever. But then he would look up at Zoya, and be reminded that he had to, for her.

The routine charade of his dysmorphia was interrupted by Tolya barging through the door.

Oh yeah, Tolya and Tamar and the rest of them thought he was crazy. Well, not exactly. After witnessing his incident in the war room, they’re wary around him. They’re most likely just worried, but Nikolai doesn’t like it. They’re treating him differently, even though he’s the same person he was before. He’d always been struggling.

They just saw him break.

Tolya delivered his news of some attack, and they all rushed to address the problem.

It didn’t get better for a long time. Nikolai ate more in one day than he had used to eat in a week. It was revolting, but he kept it up. He’d been so cold, for so long, but when Zoya gave him that proud, hopeful look when he’d ate everything on his plate, he felt warm inside. That warmth gave him a high that even starving couldn’t give him. 

The monster was the worst part. He knew his body dysmorphia was a stupid part of his brain that just wouldn’t shut up, that was affecting him and only him, but as he ate and became stronger, so did the monster. He felt the darkness rise and unfurl its wings inside of him. It made him feel helpless, like he was letting Ravka down, but like everything else, he fought it.

His mind had been a battlefield all his life, but now the warriors had guns and bombs and knives and there was bloodshed. So much more. All he ever seemed to do was fight. All day and every day. With himself, and occasionally Zoya, who’d get frustrated with him on his bad days. It wasn’t her fault though, and he knew it. It must’ve been hell for her to sit through this with him, a broken king who can’t do something as fucking simple as eating. He felt bad for her, and so, so guilty, so he ate.

Purging was something else entirely. His whole life, purging had just been one giant eraser. He could stick two fingers down his throat and all would be well again, his mistakes gone. It was an easy way out, a cheat. A cheat for a weak boy, and Nikolai convinced himself that that was no longer who he was. He wouldn’t be a weak boy anymore, he would be a strong king.

He relapsed a lot. Inevitably. But he pulled himself together. 

He grew up. Fell harder into the wonder that was Zoya Nazyalensky. Got married to her. They had children, too. Two boys.

One day he was watching the boys play from his window. The older was smirking, towering over the younger one, looking scared and afraid. Nikolai’s thoughts strayed back to the moments like these he’d had with Vasily, the pain and fear and loss that followed.

He’d stood up and went outside, reassuring the younger boy and teasing the older, causing them both to laugh together. 

Nikolai knew what he’d done that day, and he was determined to keep Ravka from being ruled by any more red knuckled kings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thats a wrap folks!! my first every fanfic, woah. ok well i did write that one on wattpad about mako mermaids getting their periods in fourth grade but we dont fucking talk about that. thanks to all of you for your kind words and support, this probably wouldnt ever have finished without you lmaoo, ily
> 
> national eating disorder association helpline: 1-800-931-2237

**Author's Note:**

> so clearly there's a lot i could go in depth on, so let me know your thoughts. love ya


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